


Icarus

by paint_it_gray



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Crushes, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, M/M, Or Is It?, Truth or Dare, Unrequited Love, england nt, john is a sweetheart, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:13:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24221869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paint_it_gray/pseuds/paint_it_gray
Summary: Truth Or Dare has always been and will always be a terrible idea.
Relationships: Ben Chilwell/James Maddison
Comments: 4
Kudos: 37





	Icarus

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how this one came to be.  
> Maybe I was in a "heart to heart discussions under the stars" kind of mood when I wrote this.  
> Thanks to my friends who re-read and edit this stuff a million times before I post it.  
> Hope you enjoy!

Winning against Croatia feels like vindication.

It’s the rush of triumph and euphoria they wish they could’ve felt in the summer of 2018 when the final was at stake. It’s hard to tell if they could’ve taken on France. But it would’ve been nice to see his teammates try at least.

All the what-if’s and the pent-up frustration are reason enough that this win, against Croatia, in Zagreb, calls for celebration. It calls for music turned up to the max, a few drinks (maybe a few more) and being happy, being carefree. The coaching staff is generous enough to pretend that they know nothing about the amounts of alcohol they’re drinking. They ignore the heavy bass just as persistently.

James doesn’t have the same sentiments towards this win. He wasn’t there when they lost, he was watching from home, but he happily lets himself get swept away by the euphoria of his teammates.

They have earned it.

Some of the older players have already retreated to their rooms. Granted, it’s a couple of hours past midnight - James has long lost count - and quite frankly, he can understand that Harry isn’t that keen on playing Truth or Dare with them. Their captain might not be that old but James, too, has better things in mind than ridiculous party games he used to play at parties in secondary school. Tripps, Danny and Jordan have also mysteriously disappeared but James can’t blame them.

Meanwhile, Alex is cutting a phone call to his girlfriend short, just so he can join the game.

Which is - full offence - a mystery to him. He would’ve loved to have an excuse like that.

But he didn’t have one when Jadon pulled him into the forming circle on the lounge carpet and here he is, squeezed in between Tammy and Ben, with a shot of tequila right in front of him.

He knows that he could walk away if he wanted to, and watch from the sidelines instead, like John. The defender has settled down in an armchair with a glass of what he thinks must be whiskey in hand and a somewhat amused expression on his face. James can’t figure that cryptic smile out. He’d bet that John has the most secrets to share out of all of them.

“Alright, the rules are simple,” Trent speaks up as soon as Alex has taken a seat on the floor.

God help him if Trent of all people is in charge.

“We spin the bottle-” He points at the empty bottle of vodka in their midst. “-and whoever it lands on picks truth or dare, as usual. If you can’t or won’t do it, you take a shot.”

A few of the lads are laughing or whistling appreciatively.

“Everyone drinks a shot once the bottle landed on everyone at least once,” he continues, “And John is in charge of refills.”

If James wasn’t concerned before, he certainly is now.

He glances at John over his shoulder and sees the smile on his face morph into a wolfish grin.

“That’s unfair to Madders, he’ll be wasted by his second shot.” Ben grins at him as he teases and James rolls his eyes with a smile on his lips.

“He’ll manage.” Trent shrugs and grins.

“Are you choking on your massive ego or have you learned to withstand the suffocating pressure?” he mutters under his breath and jabs his elbow into Ben’s side.

“Varies from time to time,” Ben shoots back.

He doesn’t have any more time to worry about it then, as Trent spins the bottle and it lands on Marcus.

“Truth or Da-”

“Truth,” Marcus says.

Trent snorts. “That was fast.”

Marcus waves his hand around. “Yeah, yeah, get on with it.”

It might be a wild guess, but somehow Marcus is a lot crankier when Jesse isn’t around.

They start off lightly, probably saving the embarrassing questions and the ridiculous dares for later. While he isn’t too invested in the game, he’s still surprised to find out that Tammy is scared of heights (and teases him for it). What doesn’t surprise him at all are Chilly’s weird stories or Callum’s shameless attitude when it comes to posing and completing dares.

It only takes them another fifteen minutes until Trent, Ben, Jadon and he are the only ones left with only one shot to their name. The rest have moved on to a slightly more intoxicated state and it shows. The questions and dares are more and more entertaining - as long as you’re not the one subjected to the madness.

“Trent, let Dec lick a piece of food before you eat it,” Callum says as the bottle stops, pointing at the fullback.

Trent lifts his glass and knocks his shot back without a hint of hesitation.

Mason lifts an eyebrow. “You’re telling me you’re willing to steal clothes from Hendo’s room in your underwear but you’re too chicken to do this?”

Trent pulls a face. “Probably didn’t even brush his teeth, the heathen.”

“Trent Alexander-Arnold draws the line at dental hygiene, folks!” Alex teases and snickers. “You heard it here first!”

James isn’t sure what Alex’s standards for hygiene are but that sounds pretty gross to him as well.

Their Scouser continues the game without further comment (although he still looks thoroughly disgusted) and dares Tyrone to touch Alex seductively for a minute. Both of them can’t stop laughing the whole time, as much as Ty tries to keep a straight face for the sake of the dare.

James tilts his head as he looks at them. He isn’t sure if Ty has done this before because he’s certainly not seducing anything.

Next, Tyrone dares him to take a shot and James shoots him his best are-you-fucking serious stare as he drinks up. He’s not that much of a lightweight, no matter what Chilly wants people to believe.

“Want me to refill that with water?” John asks behind him as he reaches for his glass.

James snorts. “Fuck you too.”

The game continues for another few more or less interesting rounds until the bottle lands on Ben again and he chooses dare.

“Benjamin,” Winksy declares full of dramatic purpose, “I dare you to kiss the most beautiful person in the room.”

James' throat feels a little dry. Thank God no one asked him to do that.

From the corner of his eye, he sees John leaning forward in his seat, suddenly more engaged in their game and rests his chin on his folded hands.

“I can’t kiss myself,” Ben jokes and runs his fingers through his hair with half-feigned arrogance.

James barely resists the urge to bury his face in his hands and groan. Sometimes he doesn’t understand why people tend to consider Ben funny. If that was supposed to be a decent joke, their Captain could start off as a comedian.

Still, he expects Ben to take a shot and be done with it. There aren’t any girls around and no matter how close some of them are, that’s probably overstepping the line by miles. Ben isn’t nearly drunk enough to consider kissing anyone out of their little circle.

Maybe that’s why he doesn’t get the chance to react as Ben leans over, lifts his chin with a gentle touch and presses a little kiss to his lips that doesn’t last longer than a second or two.

His eyes are wide open and his heart has stopped beating while he’s frozen in shock. It’s just lips against lips, no longer than the blink of an eye. But his heart is going into overdrive.

Ben pulls away and James can only stare dumbly.

Someone might have snapped a picture. He’s bound to look stupid in it. His teammates will never let him hear the end of it. They will tease him mercilessly.

He can’t take his eyes off Ben and his thoughts off his lips but he tries.

James blinks.

His heart is hammering against his ribcage so hard that it hurts. His lips are burning with the remembrance of Ben’s touch. His thoughts are trapped, muted behind a wall of bright red shock that doesn’t want to fade. His ears are ringing.

Somewhere, somehow, he feels confused, terrified, exhausted, crazy.

All at once and nothing at all.

“You’d choose him over me?” Alex’s gasp of mock-exasperation carries over to him like he’s miles away. “I am offended.”

James isn’t smiling, he isn’t sure he can. His head is spinning and he feels dizzy, on the brink of nausea. It’s the very same feeling of stepping off a carousel after too many rides. Suddenly, the world is unsteady beneath your feet and your surroundings blur around the edges. You feel like you should be laughing but you can’t.

He pushes the urge to reach up and touch his lips away. He wouldn’t be sure the kiss had actually happened if the memory of Ben’s lips wasn’t already burned into his memory. Inked into his skin like a new tattoo.

He’s so screwed.

The game passes him by in a blur. He’s not even trying to pay attention. He misses Declan’s ridiculous dare for Mason that has everyone in tears and he can’t remember what Tammy just asked Dean.

Instead, his mind is playing the scene of that stupid kiss that didn’t mean anything past a stupid dare in this stupid game on repeat. It shouldn’t matter to him, not as much as it does anyway. He’s been through and over this so many times he’s lost count. And he doesn’t understand why this innocent kiss brings back the butterflies he thought were dead and buried.

“You sure got him confused,” Jadon tells Ben and jerks his head into his direction.

James feels all eyes on him a little too clearly.

He has the mind to plaster a fake smile on his face and bites down on his cheek, hard, before he can reply.

“Confused about his questionable kissing abilities, maybe.”

Jadon laughs. “Ouch.”

He averts his eyes and grits his teeth, not even daring to look Ben’s way.

Nothing prepares him for the hand grabbing his shoulder and he flinches. His head whips around and he looks at Tammy with wide eyes who leans in to whisper something into his ear.

“Hey, Madders, could we step outside for a moment? I’m feeling a little weird.”

James nods slowly. “Yeah, sure.”

He stands up, eyes fixed on Tammy who makes a point to sway a little as he rises to his feet. He’s not sure he gets it but he offers him a hand nonetheless. It must look odd, considering their height difference, but what does he care?

“Tammy? You okay?” Alex asks, somewhere between concerned and amused.

“Yeah, yeah-” Tammy waves his arm and staggers again. “-we’ll be back in a moment.”

As soon as the door is closed behind them, Tammy straightens his spine and steps away, out of his space. James isn’t sure if he’s supposed to pretend to be surprised or not, but he figures Tammy was well aware he didn’t buy the drunken act.

They walk a few steps down the corridor to the next window where Tammy leans against the wall. James mirrors him on the other side of the hallway.

Somehow, even now when it’s quiet and he’s almost alone, he doesn’t get the space to think.

“You okay?”

“I guess.” James shrugs.

Tammy nods and silence falls over them again. James stares at his feet and frowns. The carpet sports a particularly ugly shade of grey which makes him wonder if it was supposed to be white once. Probably not.

“Why did you do that?” he asks Tammy.

“I-” Tammy turns his head to look out the window. “You just looked uncomfortable and tense and I just thought you might like a reason to get out of there, you know?”

James ducks his head and stares at the hideous carpet again. “Thanks for doing that at your expense.”

He knows the others won’t let it go that easily. Hell, they’re gonna tease Tammy about getting drunk like there’s no tomorrow.

“It’s fine.” Tammy shuffles his feet and rubs his neck. “I don’t care about the comments, it’s just harmless banter.”

James mind starts drifting. He wonders what kind of remarks he will have to listen to about the kiss. Especially after the disappearing act he’s pulling.

“Yeah…”

Tammy smiles. “Hey, don’t worry about it too much. It probably didn’t mean anything, right?”

“Right,” he replies, not really paying attention.

Isn’t that the thing he’s worried about?

Tammy pushes himself off the wall and reaches out. It looks like he’s going to hug him for an excruciating second but then his hand falls onto his shoulder in a gentle pat.

He smiles down at him, never truly meeting his eyes.

“I’m gonna give you some space, okay? If you need anything, I’ll be in my room but… you look like you could use some time to think, eh?”

He hopes the grimace he pulls at least resembles a smile and conveys his gratitude where his words fail him.

“Good night, James.”

“Good night,” he whispers and watches Tammy leave.

He doesn’t stay there for long, standing by the window and not moving. He roams through the hallways without a clear idea what he’s looking for. When he has to keep himself from running, he grits his teeth and digs his fingernails into his palms. Anything to keep him grounded. Anything that keeps him from screaming, or doing something equally stupid.

His breaths are short and strained. The air inside is getting to hard to breathe, carefully tying a noose around his neck and pulling.

He doesn’t understand.

Why did Ben have to kiss him of all people? Is it because they’re friends? Is it because they’re close enough that James finds it hard to draw the line between his feelings? Was it supposed to be a joke?

It shouldn’t bother him, not as much as it does.

His racing heart betrays him.

In the end, he shouldn’t be surprised that he ends up on the roof of all places. He opens the door and the cool air hits his face with a gust of wind.

He feels like he can breathe again.

The door falls shut with a quiet click of the lock behind him.

It smells like rain.

His feet carry him towards the edge of the building where he rests his arms on the cold metallic railing and tilts his head back to stare at the sky. Thick clouds are hiding the stars and their beautiful constellations from view, heavy and grey. He remembers the evenings spent on his grandpa’s back porch. He was pointing out all the patterns he could recall and hanging on his grandpa’s every word as he showed him new ones.

The nostalgia hits him like a ton of bricks.

He used to hold on to the belief that he only had to reach out and touch the sky, fingertips grazing the stars and everything would be alright. That he could say anything he wanted to and the universe would listen.

He finds himself missing that feeling, being so careless and hopeful. He wonders if he could see the stars tonight, would he still look to them for answers?

He shakes his head and chuckles.

Jadon wasn’t wrong when he said that Ben had him confused. His mind is a mess.

His head hangs low between his shoulders as he stares at the city beneath him and he lets out a shaky breath. His hands are trembling, his body aching for a fix like he needs a cigarette he has never smoked before in his entire life.

But he’s familiar with the feeling, the terrible itch under his skin that won’t go away, the racing heart, the cold sweat on his forehead. He remembers the times when he couldn’t sleep without taking pills and how miserable he felt without them.

It feels like he’s relapsing on that terrible habit and can’t do anything to stop it.

He’s been through withdrawal once and it was hell to get through.

Somehow, he doesn’t think this will pass as easily.

Not when Ben kisses him like that.

“Fucking hell,” he whispers, pressing his cold hands against his burning face, and shivers.

He closes his eyes before he draws in another breath, holds it and - exhales again. He tries to focus on that instead of his racing heart. It calms him just a little, no more than the gentle breeze tousling his hair can, but it’s something to hold on to.

If the ever-travelling wind could take his feelings far away with it, his life would be easier.

But instead, his mind keeps replaying that scene over and over and over. Ben’s lips on his. The pang in his chest like a bullet ripping through his lungs. The fire beneath his skin. He remembers the feeling of Ben’s fingertips brushing his skin, his breath on his face.

“Stop,” he whispers, “Please just stop.”

And he repeats it, over and over, hoping that his mind will obey if he begs long enough.

Suddenly, he picks up the sound of footsteps across the roof and the door shutting quietly.

He doesn’t need to turn around and look - he knows who’s coming to check on him.

His eyes remain closed and he stays perfectly still, barely daring to breathe.

Their arms brush as he slides into place next to him, perhaps mirroring his own position and taking in the beauty of Zagreb. They stand in silence for a while, both breathing the air that whispers of rain and listening to the quiet sounds the city still sings at night.

“How are you holding up?” John asks after a while. His voice is small, gentle. He’s heard him talk like that a hundred times before and he still sounds different now.

It’s almost funny that he doesn’t ask if he’s fine. Maybe it’s obvious, maybe he can tell although they’ve never talked about it. Maybe he’s known all along. James wouldn’t be surprised.

He opens his eyes.

“I’ve had a crush on him since we were thirteen,” he says like it explains anything, “Even though I didn’t know that’s what it was at the time.”

He thinks back to the times when he barely knew that Chilly’s first name was Benjamin. Times, when they used to meet on opposing sides of the pitch and Ben was Leicester’s adorable defender who was all too easily irritated by him. James revelled in that spotlight. He got cocky, got shameless, all to coax some kind of reaction from Ben. Went for shots, dribblings and challenges with a reckless self-confidence he still admires today. Things were easier back then.

Now he knows Chilly like the back of his hand and that makes it so much more difficult.

“Since you were thirteen?” John huffs out a breath. “Wow.”

He never even acknowledges the fact that James - apparently - fancies men. He takes it as it is, without comment or complaint which makes the tension ease from his shoulders. John doesn’t seem to care in the best possible way; he lets it pass with gentle indifference James has learned to appreciate.

He chuckles humourlessly and shrugs. “Yeah. We played against each other, you know? He was that cute Leicester defender that I was so enchanted with for some reason. And he was so easily riled up by everything I did.

“Not that I ever pranked him, or something. It was just football. Except for that one time I found him napping in the shade and tied his shoelaces together.”

James smiles at the memory, almost grins at the picture of Ben tripping over his own feet and struggling with his boots. His infatuation with him was cute and innocent and he wishes he had forgotten about it back then.

“I’m pretty convinced he hated me at the time. I mean, I wanted his attention, so of course, I was a pain.”

He takes a cautious glance at John who’s watching him with a blank expression that softens around the edges. Even when he cannot know what it’s like, he still seems to understand. Maybe that’s why it’s so easy to pour his heart out over the sleeping city while John is listening with endless patience and genuine interest.

And a mysterious glint in his eyes he still can’t figure out.

“I never really understood what it was until we went away with the Under 21’s together for the first time,” he says, “but then it hit me like a train.”

John shakes his head and smirks. “You’re so cliché, J.”

James smiles back, caught between golden nostalgia and deep blue melancholy. “Don’t I know it.”

Getting to know Ben will never be something he’ll regret though. They shared a room that first time. He remembers how distant Ben used to be until that one evening.

Ever since, Ben holds a special place in his heart.

“But it gets worse from there since my life seems to be a terrible rom-com.”

John grins. “It gets worse? How?”

James sighs deeply and bows his head in defeat as he begins to tell the story.

It’s half past midnight.

The room is dipped in pitch black and he’s bored.

His head and his right leg are dangling off the bed while he taps his left foot again the headboard impatiently.

It’s quiet without Ben there, even when they’re just sitting on opposite sides of the room, ignoring each other. It’s still better than utter silence.

He wonders where his teammate is at.

Then, the door opens just a crack. Light pours into the room and strays across the floor as the defender enters. Ben’s upside-down silhouette moves towards the bathroom no faster than a snail would, trying to make as little sound as possible.

James tilts his head and grins.

For avoiding him on principle ever since they got here, Ben sure is considerate.

James isn’t.

“Am I such a terrible person that you have to sneak into the room only when you think I’m asleep?”

His blunt question is followed by a muffled scream and a loud thump.

James lifts an eyebrow. “You okay there?”

“No thanks to you,” Ben grumbles. “I thought you were asleep!”

He chuckles. “Like this? No.”

He watches as Ben picks himself off the ground, groaning quietly, and can’t help but grin. He didn’t think it would scare him that much, or he would’ve done it sooner.

“Well, thanks for the heads up.”

James doesn’t understand what kind of problem Ben has with him. They haven’t exchanged more than a few overly polite words after getting their rooms assigned, there’s nothing he possibly could have done. He is annoying, of course, he knows that. But Ben didn’t give him the chance to be.

“I think you looked adorable, sneaking in,” he teases with a lazy smirk on his lips, “and that high-pitched scream was cute too.”

Suddenly, the lights are turned on without warning and James almost topples off the bed in an attempt to shield his eyes from the blinding light. He blinks furiously, trying to get rid of the pulsing pain behind his eyelids and the black dots scattered through his vision.

He draws in a sharp breath. “Give a guy a warning.”

“Sure,” Ben replies with an edge of arrogance to his voice, “Maybe we can learn from each other.”

James rolls his eyes. He won’t listen to this belittling tone any longer.

He gets to his feet and crosses his arms in front of his chest. “What is your deal with me? What did I do?”

“You’re arrogant, cocky, annoying…” Ben is counting along on his fingers. “Should I go on?”

“How would you know?” he scoffs. “You’ve barely even looked in my general direction.”

Ben doesn’t answer right away. He blinks; once, twice. His mouth opens and closes again, no sound coming out.

A victorious smiles ghosts over James’ lips for the blink of an eye.

“Well, you’ve always been like that,” Ben replies lamely.

James lets out a startled laugh. “That was on the pitch, Chilwell. That’s different.”

Ben doesn’t say anything.

“You think I’m gonna ask nicely for the ball when I have a game to win? Come on.”

Maybe that’s not the whole truth, not entirely.

“What about my shoelaces?” Ben asks but his tone lacks its former sharpness.

James grins. “An opportunity presented itself.”

Ben narrows his eyes. He’d perhaps be intimidated if it wasn’t Ben staring at him that way. But Ben is adorable; hardly more threatening than a medium-sized teddy bear.

“You’re not helping your case here.”

“Take it as a sign that our lives were supposed to be-” James grins. “- _tangled_.”

“Tangled.”

“Yup.”

“Uh-huh.”

And he wishes it could’ve been that easy to win him over.

“Come on, what am I supposed to do? I might be the best thing that’s ever happened to you!”

Ben snorts. “Maybe try not to tie my shoelaces together the next time _an opportunity presents itself._ ”

But he is almost smiling now and James counts that as a win.

“Maybe,” he echoes.

Ben stands there, right opposite him, and he’s still looking.

James can’t turn away.

“As long as you don’t give me something to work with, I don’t favour your chances,” Ben says and James thinks he might be teasing. “What is your proposition?”

“Hmm, I can offer shoelaces,” he begins, smirking, “and the immeasurable gift of my friendship, of course.”

“Interesting offer,” he replies and he’s only half sure he understands this game they’re playing. “But what if I refuse?”

“You can’t be so cruel to refuse perfectly good shoelaces, can you?” James retorts.

Ben grins for a second. “What are you gonna do about it? Serenade me?”

Before he has a chance to think about it, he hears himself reply: “If that’s what it takes.”

Ben snorts and turns away. “Yeah right.”

It sounds too much like a challenge to back down from it. As ridiculous as it is and no matter how damaged Ben will think him to be, it seems hilarious.

He launches into Bryan Adam’s _Please Forgive Me_ without a hint of reluctance.

Ben spins around, eyes wide. “What are you doing?”

James grins, barely containing his laughter. “Serenading.”

Ben gapes at him. “I-”

“ _Please forgive me_ ,” he sings even though he’s more laughing than singing. “ _I know not what I do_.”

Ben is staring at him with an expression lost somewhere between disbelief, surprise and amusement.

“James, please-”

He draws in another deep breath.

“ _Please forgive me_ -”

Ben darts forward and holds his mouth shut.

“Shut up! You’re gonna wake up the others!”

But the corners of his mouth are twitching.

James quirks an eyebrow.

“Okay, okay! I get it.” Ben is laughing as he shakes his head. “You’re alright.”

James smiles.

“No more singing?”

He nods in agreement and Ben removes his hand before he takes a step back.

James tilts his head back and laughs. “I have no idea why I did that.”

But when he looks, Ben is smiling at him, a soft look in his eyes, and suddenly he feels out of breath. His heart is racing.

It’s the adrenaline.

It must be.

He pushes the thought away and holds his hand out to Ben, a sheepish smile on his lips. “James Maddison. Nice to meet you.”

Ben, without hesitation, takes his hand and shakes it. “Ben Chilwell. Sorry for being a prick.”

“It’s the shoelaces,” James says, “I get it.”

Ben smiles at him and his eyes are shining so beautifully in the dimmed light as their gazes meet for a moment too long, a moment too intense.

His heart skips a beat.

“I’m still gonna get those, right?”

“Totally,” James agrees.

And that’s that.

“You sang to him?” John lifts a single eyebrow and snorts. “That’s… something else.”

James almost smiles. “That’s one word for it.”

He sighs. His heart aches when he thinks back to that memory. There are worse ones he could think of but this one is special.

“You see, we started talking then. Stayed up all night getting to know each other, him and I. And I-” He breathes out and shakes his head. “I fell so goddamn hard for him, John, it’s not even funny.”

“Even with the butterflies?” John nudges him with a gentle smile on his lips.

“With all the butterflies and fireworks and rollercoasters and I don’t know what else. Hasn’t gotten better since.”

John snickers. “Oh, J. You’re a work of art.”

There’s no way he can argue with that and he doesn’t take John’s teasing comments to heart. He can’t blame him for that, can he? Besides, he’s learnt a thing or two about keeping the disguised insults and the harmless banter apart.

“We just clicked, you know?” he continues. “I can’t explain it but something about us fit like it always belonged there. We started hanging out and texting a lot and it took me no longer than a few days to get to know him like the back of my hand. He’s the person I can call in the middle of the night, the person who knows every single fucking thing about me. Or almost everything, I guess…”

He sighs and his shoulders slump. He interlaces his fingers and can’t help but wonder what it would be like if-

He should stop torturing himself.

A car drives down the deserted street beneath them, the old engine rumbling quietly. He watches it, headlights cutting through the darkness, until it disappears around the next corner, out of sight.

“Do you love him?”

He holds his breath and casts his eyes down.

“Love is a strong word,” is what he settles on. “I don’t know if you could call it quite that.”

“But you like him,” John says.

“A lot.”

Almost belatedly, he adds: “I just don’t think I should.”

“Why not?”

When he turns to look at John, he’s toying around with a ring held by a silver chain around his neck. James never noticed it before. It only adds to the number of mysteries around John he can’t decipher.

“Brings me more heartache than anything else, doesn’t it?” he says with his eyes still fixed on the silver steel between John’s fingers. “Don’t get me wrong, Chilly is a wonderful person but he isn’t interested and it’s not worth losing him over this.”

John’s eyes are staring far off into the distance. “How do you know he isn’t?”

“I just do.”

Of course, he doesn’t.

Ben loves him. In his very own way that James doesn’t need to understand. Their love for each other is merely different. Because in a world where Ben is the sun, James is just Pluto.

And what does that say about him?

But that is what love, or not quite that, is like when you’re in love with your best friend.

James is tired of it.

He’s busy tying his shoelaces when someone walks into the changing room and sits down on one of the benches.

“What are you all smiley about?”

It was Demarai, then.

“Nothing,” Ben replies but his voice tells that it isn’t.

“Texting that girl of yours?”

James stares at his shoes like they demand all his focus. It must look weird.

“Shut up.”

He tucks the laces in his shoes which is slightly uncomfortable but less annoying.

“Meeting her tonight?” Demarai asks.

“Yeah.”

He freezes.

It takes him a moment to realize, before he grits his teeth and stands up too rapidly, his movements to jerky. He puts on his jacket and checks his phone, still not looking because he shouldn’t even be listening.

He has one missed call from Jack.

The fire burning in his chest tastes like jealousy on his tongue and he hates it. Jealousy doesn’t suit him well and he doesn’t have anything to be jealous about.

Excluding that he has had a shitty day and was looking forward to spending a calm night on Ben’s couch. Watching crappy films and bitching about everything that went wrong today. Plans Ben, oh so conveniently, forgot about for Alicia.

But he doesn’t want to stand between him and his happiness, does he?

Still, his heart aches at the thought of Ben just forgetting the plans the made weeks ago in favour of some girl he met not a month ago. Feelings or not, that hurts. That it’s Ben who’s ditching him just stabs the knives a little deeper into his chest.

He calls Grealish back.

“Madders! Thought you’d never call me back!”

“There’s a thing called training, mate. Some of us tend to show up there.”

“Whatever. Are you free tonight?”

James glances at Ben over his shoulder. He doesn’t notice. “Yeah, sure.”

“No date with Benjamin?” Jack teases.

He grits his teeth. “No.”

“Oh God, I can’t wait to hear what happened this time. Want me to come over?”

James shoulders his bag and smiles faintly. More often than not, he’s grateful for Jack’s friendship (who only knows about his crush because he’s a horrible, nosy bastard and figured it out on his own). He’s there without question whenever he needs him and James appreciates it more than anything.

He should thank him for that when the time is right.

“You know what? I’ll come over,” he says, already on his way out. He waves to his teammates over his shoulder. “Don’t have anywhere else to be.”

It’s childish, immature and dramatic but he still hopes Ben heard him.

“I’ll have pizza and the alcohol ready.”

Right then and there, he thinks he might be a little in love with Jack Grealish.

In an entirely alcohol-unrelated kind of way, of course.

“Cheers, mate. I owe you one.”

As he leaves the room, he doesn’t notice Cags’ curious gaze following him.

He has his mind set on drowning his feelings in alcohol tonight.

It won’t make things any easier but it will help him forget about it for a while.

James tells John only half of that.

There are some things he’s not proud of, some things he’s not ready to talk about. This memory is just a pathetic reminder he can’t get over it.

He’s not ready to admit that, not even to himself.

“You know, Ben is… As cheesy as that sounds, I’m not gonna find a friend like him again,” James admits after minutes of silence. “I’m not going to be so selfish and throw that away for nothing. Or maybe that makes me even more selfish. I don’t know.”

“Because things will be different when you tell him,” John adds. “I guess I get it.”

When he glances at John again, his eyes have reacquired a stare of distant melancholy that James can’t quite place. It doesn’t fit into the picture he has of John and it makes him wonder what kind of painful memory he’s revisiting at the moment.

But it’s not his place to ask.

“Ben is a brilliant friend,” James says out of an odd urge to clarify.

“When he doesn’t miss long term plans or birthdays because of dates. Or when he shows up at your place in the middle of the night because he got dumped, or…” he trails off. “Anyway, what I’m trying to say is, I don’t want to miss out on his life just because my heart decided to fall for the wrong person.”

“Not your birthday, I hope?”

James blushes. He doesn’t answer. That seems to be answer enough for John who shakes his head, eyebrows drawn together and lips pursed.

“He has his head in the clouds at times.” He shrugs it off.

Sure, it hurt last November to learn Ben ditched his birthday for a date. It took a long night at Jack’s favourite bar to drown the feeling.

But it’s not unforgivable.

“One of his two major faults, I guess,” James continues like John didn’t see him flinch at the memory. “He needs those though, otherwise he’d be pretty much perfect.”

“Don’t say that.”

John’s voice is so quiet, it almost gets lost in the wind.

“Why?”

John doesn’t give him an answer. He closes his eyes and bows his head. James must’ve looked exactly like that before John came up here.

“You okay?”

Tammy comes to his mind, entirely unprompted. He remembers his face when he asked him the same thing an hour ago. The small frown on his forehead, the worry in his eyes.

John shakes his head. The smile on his lips doesn’t reach his eyes. “No. But I will be.”

“Well, if you need someone to talk to, I owe you. You listened to me pining over Ben for almost an hour.” James grins slightly and nudges him in the same fashion John did earlier.

John smiles. Almost. “I’ll be sure to remember that.”

The silence that falls over them is relaxing. He listens to the sound of the wind and the few cars still around at this hour. There might be a siren wailing in the distance. He can hear the music from the lounge like a whisper in the air. The must’ve opened the window. Which means they’re still celebrating and he might be able to go to bed and fall asleep before Ben can start a conversation with him. He’s not ready and not in the right mind to talk about that kiss. If Ben asks him tonight, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to brush it aside like it was nothing.

Ben knows him too well for that. No matter how oblivious he can be.

“So, what are you going to do?” John asks with his gaze fixed on him.

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly.

In a perfect world, he’d tell Ben and he’d somehow, miraculously, like him back. Ben would kiss him and they’d ride off into the sunset or whatever.

But in the real world, James still is only Pluto and Ben is the sun. Even if Ben was Neptune, he’d still be out of reach.

“I wish he hadn’t kissed me in the first place. He doesn’t get to do that when I was finally something close to over him and mess with my head all over again.”

He sighs. “It’s not fair.”

“Life rarely ever is,” John says with a certain touch of finality to it that James cannot argue with.

He nods and feels strangely cold as the realisation kicks in. He shivers.

John doesn’t hug him but he drapes an arm over his shoulders and runs his thumb over his shoulder in little circles.

“I’m sorry,” James whispers and drops his head onto John’s shoulder.

“It’s okay.”

John lets him lean against his side for a while as they’re staring into the darkness. He doesn’t say anything when his shoulders won’t stop shaking or when he wipes a little tear from the corner of his eye; he simply holds him a little closer.

“I wish I didn’t love him.”

“You don’t,” John replies. “You wish he’d love you back.”

He chuckles weakly. “Perhaps a bit of both.”

He yawns as he watches the first streaks of grey crossing the horizon, not yet willing to move out of John’s space when he’s so comfortable.

“I should go and get some sleep before the weird looks and teasing comments later.”

‘And avoid Ben’ goes unspoken.

“I think I’m gonna stay here for a little while. Clear my head, watch the sunrise. You know the drill.”

James groans at the mention of sunrise. “Ugh, don’t remind me.”

John smiles down at him. James straightens his spine and moves out of his space, stretching his arms over his head.

“Thanks for listening,” he tells him, “I appreciate it.”

John nods and that’s his cue to leave.

When he reaches the door, he lingers for another moment and watches John. He’s leaning against the railing, shoulders relaxed and his breathing calm. He stares into the distance, the wind playing with his hair. He seems a little lost in thought but otherwise okay.

He smiles and disappears back inside.

He knows the thinking process tends to take a while.

On his way back to his room, he starts thinking. He isn’t sure if talking about it helped or not but he’s willing to take that chance. Even Jack only knows the occasional drama that’s bound to come around every once in a while. Although he’s quite sure that Jack knows more than he lets on.

But John, John knows something no one else does and he can’t figure out what it is.

With a sigh, he pushes the door open, ready to turn on the lights, but he pauses for a second and stares.

There’s a figure curled up on his bed, fast asleep. Ben is still wearing the clothes from earlier tonight but his shirt is crumpled and his hoodie discarded beside him.

He pulls the door shut behind him and tiptoes across the room in slow motion.

He doesn’t want to wake him.

James crouches down beside the bed and studies Ben’s features. His face is squished against the pillow and his hair’s a wild mess. Some strands are falling into his forehead while others are sticking from his head in near impossible directions.

Before he can stop himself, he reaches out and smooths out some of the worst ones.

He looks adorable, large teddy bear wise.

“Is it bad that I wish you were too drunk to remember all of this in the morning?” he mutters as he runs his fingers through Ben’s hair.

Of course, Ben doesn’t give him an answer. He exhales gently, which sounds a bit like a sigh and James chuckles.

“I’ll take that as a no.”

He sits there for another ten minutes or so, watching the steady rise and fall of Ben’s chest and listening to his calm breathing.

His heart lurches and he feels the sting in his chest.

No matter how much he wants this, watch Ben fall asleep and run his fingers through his hair, maybe kiss his temple - he can’t have that.

And eventually, he will be okay with that.

Again.

For now, the pain in his heart is bittersweet but the taste will fade from his lips in a month or two.

“Forgive me,” he whispers, “I tried to stop loving you, I really did.”

With one last longing glance, he rises to his feet and reaches for the covers, carefully pulling the blanket up to Ben’s shoulders. He tries not to think about the fact that Ben fell asleep in his bed, waiting for him. Maybe.

He changes his clothes, brushes his teeth and climbs into Ben’s unoccupied bed.

He’s asleep before his head hits the pillow.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm contemplating turning this into a series.  
> Maybe something more about John (and Ben & James, of course).  
> Any thoughts?


End file.
